


Falling

by Yatzuaka



Series: I have a feeling I will regret this [3]
Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: F/M, Post-Apocalypse, UST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2453000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatzuaka/pseuds/Yatzuaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hat challenge: 28 days, 500 words, 14 fandoms, 28 genres. An insane idea I failed at, but am continuing because I am a glutton for punishment. Upped rating because I have a potty mouth. My bad- sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hats are terrible.  
> Batman  
> Post-Apocolypse

As Batman there wasn't a lot he couldn't do. As Bruce Wayne there seemed to be less. He'd spent a good portion of his life trying to understand desperate humanity, trying to obliterate the sense that criminal acts would be tolerated.

He'd failed once, spectacularly, Gotham and then the rest of world falling in rapid succession. A second, smaller bomb had gone off deep under Gotham. The blast had been negligible. But it had dispersed enough of the C-Die virus to infect every citizen within a thousand block radius. The viral load was total overkill, but the goal was obtained without anyone being the wiser.

It spread, phrases like wildfire and without discrimination were accurately used to describe the reach of the sickness. He sometimes felt guilty holed up in the fortress he'd built for himself, but he knew he'd be needed out there soon enough. And he had so been looking forward to his retirement. Fucking wackos and their stupid plans. 

* * *

Selina knew she'd made the wrong choice in staying with her city when she saw what had become of its inhabitants. The bike was handy until ammo ran out, but even without firepower it was extremely maneuverable. The underground tunnels offered more safety than the streets above, but it was easy to get lost. It was easy to get trapped. The bike's grill was disgusting. Selina was thinking about that as she made her way to Wayne Manor.

She ended up exposed on the grounds, and anxiety spiked as she climbed from the bike to knock on the door. Or rather the metal shutter that covered what she imagined was a door. The skin at the back of her prickled, and she knew without looking behind her that one or more of the shambling, ultra violent _things_ people became had spotted her. All those years on the streets were handy, if for nothing else than her excellent sense of her surroundings.

She banged on the metal a few more times, this had been the last of her ideas, and clearly someone had to have survived to batten down the house as it was.

_Come on!_

A screech behind her but no immediate sound of feet against ground, so she had a few more seconds.

She glanced around, saw the camera, and gave it a raised eyebrow and wide eyes.

She'd never been so happy to hear the sound of clanging metal.

Selina had barely set foot inside before the the metal banged shut again. It was pitch black, but she was used to that and prepared for it, too. Her fingers flicked confidently against the glasses that were wrapped around her head. They were without a doubt the best investment she'd never actually made. The Manor's interior glowed eery green, and as she wandered she couldn't help but tally the worth of the furnishings and decorations.

Sure she liked jewels better than antiques, but that was more of a convenience thing than an actual preference.

His voice was different, all Bruce and not that awful rasp he affected as Batman. It was even more welcome than the sound of clanging metal.


	2. Countenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. Real life sucks, but, like always, I dust myself off and try, try again.  
> Hats for this challenge yielded Batman, which yay suits my mood just fine and UST, which eh, I guess I can work with.

"Lina", he says, like he's got a right to call her the diminutive of her actual, real name, like they are somehow friends, "pass me that wrench."

There are a dizzying array of tools laid out carefully on the cleanest garage floor she has ever seen, and among them no less than 5 wrenches. She picks up the closest one and slaps it into his waiting palm. 

Bruce Wayne looks a bit incongruous, with his lower body sticking out from under the hood of a late model Prius. Alfred had introduced them to Betsy, his going-to-market transport, after it became clear gasoline was becoming more and more scarce. The drawback of Betsy, the electric car that basically was charged through the Manors extensive solar panels, was obvious to even the most dimwitted of their little group.

That 12 horsepower engine wouldn't get them away from a grandma on a walker, much less a swarm of Runners. Not that anyone else went on runs; it was Selina and Bruce who had been going out since the beginning. 

The hollow clunk that sounded under the car preceded the cursing Bruce did in his street Manderin. She wasn't fluent in standard Manderin, so his rapid-fire slang left her understanding only a few words here and there.

"Pretty sure that cars don't have ancestors or children, Bruce," she laughed after his tirade entered its third minute.

He held a hand to his left eye when he emerged from under Betsy. Sometimes it still takes her aback when she sees him. He's so pink now. Or healthier looking, is maybe a bit more accurate. He'd been so sick, so terribly broken when they'd first met. It's good to see him looking his age. The half embarrassed smile he sends her way makes him look so much more like the kid in those family portraits she'd found in the attic.

Nothing like a smidge of an apocalypse to put a spring in your step and roses in your cheeks, Selina supposes.

* * *

 

Bruce catches her scent in the air, it's just a faint freshness really, and glances automatically at the window, which is - surprise, surprise - open. Yes, her room is on the third floor, and the window is one of the ones facing the courtyard, so it's not like she left them vulnerable to attack, but it still makes an uncomfortable knot grow tight in his chest. 

He looks out the window, sees a lump that doesn't belong next to one of the chimneys on the roof, and tells himself the relief is one he'd feel for anyone in their group. 

Bruce is athletic, has always had great control of his body, even during his gawky teenage years, which made his time in that hell, broken in half, almost more than he'd been able to endure. 

Selina though, she's just on a different level, as evidenced by the two inch ledge she'd traversed for twenty feet, with the four foot wide gap somewhere close to the middle of that distance, and the overhang she cleared to get up on the roof. 

Not willing to be completely outdone, he made his way there, but did make enough noise to have people checking on him. Even as he told himself she'd only managed to be so quiet about it because of the advantages her smaller frame gave her, he knew she simply outclassed him in this type of thing. 

He makes it across the roof without incident, and plops down next to her. She's looking at the water, the reason they stay here is that long line of waterfront at the base of the property, but she's not watching it to guard it. All of Them hate the water. 

"Do you wish, sometimes, you hadn't fixed the autopilot?"

It's not a question he's expecting, but he can't deny that he'd had a doubt or two especially when it had been just him those first hard days alone, but, "Not lately."

Her hand is cold in his, but that's ok. He'll warm it, if she'll let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd like a mofo, and written entirely on my kindle. Sorry for any mistakes and wonkiness.


End file.
